Saturday Night. Part 1

Saturday Night, 7pm. I receive a phone call from Scarlett, a lady, let me re-phrase a crazy woman I used to work with at the Pancake House. She asked me to meet her for a few drinks and catch up. Since I was in the neighborhood I figured why not. I arrived at the bar to Scarlett, who had been there for an hour and a half, just took her anti-depressants as well as two speed pills. Not to mention she chain smoke Marb Red’s like a convict. (She might have been at one point in her life). So anyhow, I hadn’t talked to her or seen her in 6 months give or take. She was all over the map.
Scarlett’s short profile: She is in her 40’s (mentally though, I’d say she’s 16), she has three kids, she is from California, has done time in jail for stabbing her long term boyfriend when they were younger, she’s modeled for Vogue supposedly when she was 17 or 18, and she has done every drug known to man. I guess the best way to describe her is burn out.
After a an hour or so, we both wanted to leave. We walked out to the parking lot and she asks if I’d like to smoke before going. “I brought some green in case you came” she said. So we are blazing in her blazer and she just starts talking a mile a minute. She starts saying how she’s glad her guy is out of town so she won’t have to worry about having sex that night and giving him a blow job. “It’s such a workout”. I agree, it is. Then she says “And don’t expect me to swallow that shit every fucking time. That’s like a once in a lifetime thing, alright maybe 4, alright I’ve done it six times. But Jesus, their stuff is disgusting and gross.” At this point I’m laughing so hard from the sheer insanity of her conversation she is carrying on with herself.  
We chill for a minute then her phone rings. “Hi baby, Mommy will be home in a minute. I’m hungry, what should we get to eat? McDonald’s? Alright I’ll be home in 15 minutes.” Scarlett was talking to her 9 year old daughter. She turns to me “Alright Jess, I gotta get going. I have to get Brittany a happy meal. Call me sometime will ya.”
We say our good-bye’s. I get in my car and check my phone. Text from Sally: Can you pick me up please I’m hammered.